A bag from Oerol, with the first lines of a poem and a fully tagged pencil case with graffiti markers. This is the bag of someone who is struggling with his image: is he going for street theater or just for ‘street’? If you’re eighteen, that might be an issue. This bag owner is not much older, I guess.
The owner of this bag does the laundry on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. On Sundays, he cleans up his room – that’s on his agenda. He’s probably just moved in. He has started training and has a part-time job on weekends. The agenda breathes order and regularity. Perhaps that is still the influence of his parents: he is allowed to be ‘street’, but in his spare time, if school does not suffer.
The street has a certain romance. Wandering around a bit, tagging here and there, see what comes your way. Perhaps the owner of this bag developed a love for the street during the time he sold children’s stamps. Going door-to-door, ringing the doorbell with complete strangers. The tension: how much do you sell? In any case, he has fond memories of it, because he keeps his smokers paraphernalia in a tin from the stamp campaign.
Street as he is, he also knows that sometimes it’s a good idea to do what your parents say. To clean up your room, to get an education, for later. To just draw a neat line in your notebook with your triangle. And if it’s all too awkward becomes that brave thing, then he just hides under that cool cap. Because then you’re still best street. Or street theatre. whatever.
This was the last episode in the series Found objects†